


In the arms of the woman he loves

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Jaime DOESN'T die, Post Season 7, Post-Canon, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 14:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16599467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: During the war, Jaime lies in his tent injured. Brienne visits him.





	In the arms of the woman he loves

“His wounds are quite deep,” Sam had informed her. “If he manages to make it through the night, there is a chance that he might survive, if not…” Brienne brushed away the possibility of the worst that could happen as she stepped into Jaime’s tent. Shuddering at the thought of how this might have ended if she had not made it on time, she gathered her wits and took a seat on the bed by his side.

“Ah, wench,” he opened his eyes. “I knew you would come, though I am not naive enough to expect anyone else. I am quite unpopular, aren’t I?”

“Sam has advised you to take complete rest,” she whispered, fighting hard to mask her distress at the sight of his battered body. “You are not going to waste your strength talking, unless it is absolutely necessary.”

“I’m not going to see this through, am I?”

She was unable to meet his eyes. “Sam says you’ll be fine, Ser Jaime. It is just a matter of one night.”

Jaime sighed heavily. “That is what maesters say when the chances are next to none.”

Brienne felt a squeezing sensation in her chest when she remembered the way he fell. She had rushed to his side, cutting down the wight that had attacked him. She had held him in her arms, cradling him against her chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat. She had made every attempt to keep him warm in the biting cold of the North until help arrived.

“You have to make it through,” Brienne wanted to motivate him, to re-awaken the dormant lion in him.

_You can’t give up like this, Ser Jaime, you can’t die._

“I don’t think anyone cares whether I live or die, Brienne,” there was a slight bitterness to his tone.

“You’re wrong if you think so.” She had to keep a check on her emotions, she couldn’t afford to break down if she had to be his strength.

“I have no one left,” he said flatly. “Maybe Tyrion, but--” he stopped, gasping for breath.

_You have me. I love you. You have to live for me!_

When he closed his eyes, Brienne decided to leave him to sleep, but as soon as she got to her feet, he called out.

“Stay,” he said hoarsely. “Sit with me, wench. Talk to me.”

She returned to her perch on his bed obediently. “Do you recollect the time you lost your hand, Ser Jaime? You had given up on life itself.”

Jaime nodded, a ghost of a smile appearing on his pale lips. “How could I forget? You were the one who urged me to find myself again, to live on.”

“And you have to do that again,” Brienne encouraged him. “You can’t let one setback pull you down like this. You still have much to live for.”

“Live for what?” The question took Brienne by surprise, but Jaime continued, not waiting for an answer. “What do you plan to do with your life if you survive the war, Brienne?”

“Become the knight I have always wanted to be, and…” Brienne hesitated, her face growing hot as she brought up the picture of the future that she had painted in her mind’s eye.

“Yes?”

“I have decided to heed my father’s advice. I want to go back to Tarth and--”

“--assume your rightful position as the heiress to your house?” he suggested.

“Yes, something like that.” She still couldn't muster the courage to look him in the eye.

“To carry your family line ahead, you would need heirs of your own, wench. And for that, you need to get married, you need a man you would want to call husband.”

“I do have a clear idea of who I would desire as my husband, Ser Jaime,” she mumbled, playing with the embroidery on the bedspread as she spoke.

“Let me guess, _Tormund_ , isn’t it?” there was a small smile on his lips. “That’s what his name is, right?”

Taken aback by his reference to Tormund, Brienne stared at him, shocked. “There is a time and a place for mockery and jokes, Ser Jaime,” she cried out, blinking back the angry tears that were threatening to flow. “Anyway, enough of small talk. I should leave you to rest now.” She turned away and was about to get up, when he caught her wrist and pulled her towards him.

“Look at me, Brienne,” he said, gently tilting her face towards him. “If you think I am going to stand quietly and watch that wildling lust after you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

She finally met his gaze, looking into the green eyes that shone with a wide range of emotions, eyes that confirmed to her that the feelings were mutual.

“I have been reckless with my life, not realizing my purpose all along, not having a reason to go on,” he took her hand again, a look of sadness and longing flashing across his face. “But now, when I have found a reason to live, life seems to be running away from me--”

“You are not dying, Ser Jaime,” Brienne interrupted. “Not tonight, not like this. Sam said--”

“I have always wished to die in the arms of the woman I love,” he lamented. “Looks like I might get my wish tonight, when all I want right now is to survive...to spend the rest of my life in the arms of the woman I love.”

“And you will,” she said firmly, more as a reassurance to herself than an encouragement for him. She had made up her mind to spend the night with him, to stay awake by his side and watch over him.

And that was what she did.

+++++

Brienne stifled a yawn, watching the first rays of the morning sun trickle through the gap in the tent. Jaime was fast asleep, breathing steadily. Never once during the night had she let go of his hand, sitting by him, hoping and praying to the seven for his recovery.

_I have always lived my life for others, never having wanted anything else,_ she had prayed fervently. _But this time, just this once, please grant me this one wish that I ask for myself, the only thing that really matters to me, the life of the only man I have ever truly loved. Let him live. Don’t take him away from me!_

“Good morning, wench."

Brienne couldn’t hide the relief that washed over her when she saw him stir. _Wench._ How much she had craved all night to hear him call her that again!

“You seem to be fine now,” she observed, unable to contain the happiness she felt for probably the first time in her life.

Jaime opened his mouth to reply, when Samwell Tarly entered.

“You look much better, Ser Jaime,” he declared, as he examined Jaime’s wounds. “I am happy to tell you that there is decent progress in your healing. At this rate, I am confident that you will recover soon.” Once he was done, Sam gave them both a cheerful smile and made his way to the other casualties awaiting his attention.

Something had been nagging Brienne for quite a while. “All that you said last night, Ser Jaime--”

“I meant every word of it, Brienne,” he whispered, his eyes shining as he locked his gaze on her.

Brienne gave him a shy smile. There was a lot to say, a lot to hear, but they would have time for all that later.

They would survive.

“I should go,” she decided it was time to excuse herself. “My war duties await me.” Bending down, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. When she moved away from him, he pulled her into his arms.

“You call that a kiss, wench?” he complained dramatically. “Don’t I deserve much more than just a chaste kiss? I didn’t know you were so cruel as to deprive a dying man of his last wish!” There was a twinkle in his eye as he gave her a charming smile that melted her heart.

“You’re _not_ dying, Ser Jaime, and I’m pretty sure there will be plenty of time for kisses and much more later.” She felt a warm flush creep up her neck as she wriggled out of his grasp and made her way to the entrance.

“Is that a vow, Brienne?” he called out, his tone reminiscent of the Jaime she had known and fallen in love with.

“Maybe,” she blushed deeper. “Wait and see.” Throwing him one last glance, she bit her lip shyly and dashed away, for the first time daring to hope for a future with Jaime. A future that would be theirs.

And yes, they would survive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Do share your comments :)


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